Only An Instant
by microlm
Summary: Oneshot: Zero and one, the gap seems so small...so why is it so hard to bridge? A look into the thoughts of one person who truly, became 'zero'.


A/N: I don't know what came over me, but I just had to right this. Anyways, some of the stuff mentioned are 'made up' from assumptions drawn from what the manga has revealed so far…which seriously: ISN'T MUCH! They showed her for what? 20 pages? And I know it jumps around.

**Only An Instant**

* * *

_I was always fighting to stop lowering, to keep myself at 'one', to stop myself from becoming 'zero'. Everyday, I tell myself, "Don't lose yourself; fight it." Each day, I lose._

* * *

My father never said much about my mother. I wondered about her often. What was she like? Kind? Warm? Slightly annoying but you love her anyways? Everything like those mothers I see on the television? Maybe she was a bad mother; dad always turned away when I asked about her. Then he'd give me a slight look from the corner of his eyes, and I think I get the idea.

It was always a look that read clearer than a book, saying, "Why did she have to end up like this? She could've been such a good child." _Could've been._ Perhaps that was why mom left, she detested the way I turned out. Or maybe even worse, she was afraid of me.

So why didn't dad leave? Did he feel guilty about leaving a child alone, without real parents? No…I think he just cared enough. Though sometimes, I still feel as though he was scared of me, he tries to hide it, but he's no actor. A nervous glance, an awkward pat that meant well, or being slightly jittery whenever I'm near; dead giveaways. But, I still hoped that it was a normal reaction. Until one day he rolled up his sleeves to do some gardening and I saw bruises all over them. There was a teeth mark too. Not that of a full grown adult; they matched mine fairly well at that time. After that, I had no doubt.

Don't get me wrong, he was a wonderful father. Always made me laugh, kept me entertained. And since I couldn't go out into public places much, entertainment was key. To keep me from getting bored, he made me toys. Lots and lots of toys. No, he didn't buy them, nor were they made from plastic. You see, since I kept destroying things in my fits, my dad looked for a cheaper alternative to replace the furniture. He found it in cardboard. That's right, cardboard. He claimed that he could make nearly anything with cardboard, and he proved it by making me a gun that shot out 200 peanuts per minute. Amazing. Who wants a boring plastic gun that only shoots tens of foam bullets per minute after that? After awhile, it grew into a cardboard _obsession_. He even started basing his research on replacements for buildings out of cardboard! Laughable, but I think the world might've taken it seriously. He did have a reputation for being a genius mathematician, after all.

Still, what I really wanted couldn't be made of cardboard. As strange as it seems, I just wanted to walk around on the streets without somebody watching me, making sure that nothing would happen. Of course, I couldn't, dad told me to never go out without someone keeping an eye on me. It didn't matter what he said, the desire still overtook me once, and I slipped out while my father was at work. I didn't go far, just to the lower street where a few other kids were. They invited me to play with them, and I was more than happy to accept. I can still remember the quick joy it gave me, a feeling of freedom, as I ran after one of them. And then, it went black. When I woke up, dad wouldn't tell me what happened, but I never disobeyed him again.

* * *

The last year I was still 'myself' was probably my happiest. It was because of the eccentric doctor my dad had found. The doctor, he might've been the one of the first people outside of my father who didn't mind the bouts of violence the destruction of my brain cells caused. My dad said that the doctor was real genius who had mastered every field in neurology within ten years. My dad also said that the doctor was rather…strange, which was exactly why I was nervous, at first anyways, to meet him. Still, it was fun to go on a train and watch the landscapes flow by. The trees blurring together, the sound of chirping birds, my father had to yank me into my seat so that I wouldn't fall out of the train.

Sakuba University was our destination, as it was the place where the genius doctor held his research facilities. One building in particular was specifically dedicated to treat patients with a mental problem, patients like me. I took a liking to the building immediately, because there was an expanse of forest that surrounded the facility. The moment I got there, I was already imagining sitting on the boughs of a few, perhaps curling up with a good book. As usual, my dad acted as the ballast to bring me to reality, and he pulled me through the doors of the research building before leaving for his own.

Then, I met the doctor. He really was a genius, that Eisuke Harukawa. When I asked him if he knew how being a single child born on the 18th of October was the origin of my name, he replied exactly how my father had thought. One over ten to the 18th power, a unit of measurement that was so tiny, it very rarely used, in other words, 'Setsuna'(1). There wasn't any real need for my father to tell me how strange he was, his appearance spoke for itself. A hawk-like nose, eyes that always looked as though they were plotting something, certainly those belonged to a strange person. But, he wasn't too strange, still within the perfectly 'normal' range. Besides, a touch of weirdness was essential to give yourself a pronounced sense of 'self'.

Self…that was what made me envy even a beetle. At least they would never lose themselves, knowing who they are and keeping their personality until the very end, something I wish I could do. Maybe, that was why I liked Doctor Harukawa so much. He would never be swayed or changed by outside forces, he would always be the doctor that was genius beyond compare, was a little weird, and had pride. When I told him that, Doctor Harukawa said that he did not rejoice in being compared to a beetle, but I could tell that he had understood.

* * *

There was one day that I particularly remember. Doctor Harukawa showed me his theory of how he believed he could destroy the world in ten seconds. Ten seconds! I laughed until my stomach hurt at the ridiculousness. Or maybe I just have a strange sense of humor. The way he always forced you to be comforted, I wished I could be listening to him all the time…but, that was already beyond possibility. My time as 'Honjou Setsuna' was already less than half. The things that I should remember, I forgot, some faces no longer clicked with me, words couldn't come out. My knowledge, my thoughts, even my personality, they were all slipping through the cracks of my fingers like sand. Or maybe it was slipping through an hourglass…yes, that's much more accurate. The cells of my brain were being destroyed rapidly now; my time was running out.

Another good thing happened that day though, Doctor Harukawa promised to remember me as the person he was talking to at that moment, to remember me as Honjou Setsuna. Remembering, yet another thing I wished I could do.

* * *

_What about now? Now, I'm scared. Every face is a stranger to me, and even though I know one of them is Doctor Harukawa, I can't tell which one it is. And right now, I really need someone, anyone. How strange is it, that I can't even recognize my own father? It's even worse when I'm in the dark, trying to sleep and all the thoughts of what could've been start forcing themselves into my thoughts. I used to face my disease rather cheerfully, thinking that it would make the time that I can no longer be myself more bearable, thinking that it would lessen the pain of never being able to return from zero. What a useless farce. Now that it's glaring right at me, yelling out that it's done, I just shrink down. Those sand walls of defenses I built up over the years crumble down easily. The blackness that comes with the fits are almost a blessing now. At least then, there is nothing, and that's better than the pain. It comes often, the nothingness, I probably only have about a few hours a day left to be' myself'. _

_And today, I realized something. I remembered once, when a math problem I was doing was marked wrong because I was off by one, how I complained that it was just a small amount. My dad then told me that even though the gap seemed small, it made all the difference._

_It's true. The gap between zero and one, most people just skip over it, but looking closer, the distance between is so far! The amount of numbers that can fit in between them, it's infinite. 0.1, 0.01, all the way to the number that's my name, 0.000000000000000001, and beyond even that forever, it won't end. Just like life…_

_Zero and one, life and death, the distance seems so easy to bridge, yet the possibilities of what can go on in between the gaps, it's _infinite_. But…in the end, zero and one, life and death, compared to the rest of the numbers that stream on endlessly and time; it's not very long is it? No, it's not._

_ It's only an instant._

* * *

A/N: HAL arc, it was my favorite. Can you tell?

(1) In Japanese, 'Setsuna' is a unit of measurement equivalent to the English measurement 'atto' or 10 to the -17th power.


End file.
